The Chains of Hatred
by Hasten
Summary: Both Ren and Mari have endured pain in the past and still struggle to overcome the anger and hatred that manifested in their hearts as a result of their suffering. They are alike in more ways than they know, but they are gradually learning.[RenxMari]


Authors Note: Hello, everyone! While browsing around in the SK fandom, I noticed that there were very few RenxMari stories-- _very_ few. In fact, most of the stories I found were RenxAnna, RenxPirika, RenxMacchi, or RenxOC. None of those pairings caught my attention; I wanted to read a Renx_Mari_ story, and I did, though, as a said, there were very few. In response to the pathetic number of RenxMari stories out there, and in an attempt to hopefully increase the number, I'm writing this fanfic. I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: Shaman King and its characters belong to Hiroyuki Takei, and therefore do not belong to me; what _do_ belong to me, however, are this story and its theme. Please do not borrow or, put simply, _steal_ my idea or any part of this story. Thank you.

---

It was mere minutes 'til midnight. The sky had long been darkened by the descent of the sun and could be seen as a navy-blue blanket, its smooth texture mist-like, its soft vanity made memorizing in its simplicity and beauty. The pale moonlight shone down upon the earth below, illuminating what was concealed in shadows and warning late-night walkers of cracks in the pavement. Toward the city, driving both in and out, hundreds of cars bustled about, driven by men and women both coming to and leaving their night-shift jobs. Outside the city, however, in quaint suburbs and modest towns, cars passed by less frequently and a peaceful calm had long fallen over the surrounding area. Tao Ren, a thirteen-year-old Chinese Shaman, swung his long, scythe-like weapon through the chilled air, from right to left and left to right, caring not for the current time. It had been an hour exactly that he had been outside the Funbari Inn, where he abided with his "friends," perfecting old battle assaults and practicing new antics, strengthening his body and sharpening his senses.

His golden eyes were narrowed in concentration, staring straight ahead, observing his weapon as it was forced through the air. Each stroke... reminded him of his defeats-- no, of his _defeat_ against Asakura Yoh, his rival who, through a struggle with Ren's own father, had become his closest friend and one of his many comrades in the Shaman Fight. Ren involuntarily tightened his grip around his weapon, which was known as a Kwan-Dao, and whipped it through the air with so much force that he stumbled forward a step or two and was in turn forced to lean against his Kwan-Dao for support. He shut his golden eyes, breathing heavily.

Asakura Yoh... Asakura Yoh... Asakura _Yoh_! He would not lose to him again!

"Never again!" Ren snarled, eyes suddenly darting open, single right hand swiping the held Kwan-Dao through the air. Again, this time in the opposite direction, his Kwan-Dao burst through the air; he wasted no time and repeated his previous action, ignoring the painful contracting of his muscles. "Aaargh!" He glared ahead of him as if Yoh were standing there, as if his father-- who had plagued his innocence with murder and bitter lies and who had held both Ren and his elder sister, Jun, captive in cages within a filthy dungeon and tortured their already weakened bodies in their own home-- were standing there.

"I'll rip you apart!" Ren cried out as the illusion of his father manifested before him, large arms outstretched toward Ren, dark robes draping the man's humongous body and a wide, mocking grin on his face.

_"Come here... I want to pet you on the head." _

"Golden Chuuka Zanmai!" Ren stabbed feverishly at his father's form until he could no more; the sharp, burning sensation in his arms had been ignored for much too long and forced him to cease his rapid movement. He weakly fell to his knees, Kwan-Dao still in hand, head bowed and deep purple locks falling forward into his face. Ren reluctantly emitted an almost whimper-like grunt, angry at his father but more so at himself for failing to destroy him. Lifting his head to look at the man, Ren was disdained to see that his father was gazing down upon him like he were a lowly worm; his father smiled a soft, genuine smile before vanishing as quickly as he had come.

Ren was left... alone.

His body gradually began to tremble as tears formed in his golden eyes, threatening to spill out over his cheeks and fall to the ground below. _No..._

"No..." Ren voiced his thoughts, speaking in a gentle whisper. "I will not cry; I will not allow myself to be overcome by such... weakness. I... am strong." The once feeble tone of his voice was overcome by a note of determination, and, regaining control of his emotions, he rose from ground to stand on his feet, unshed tears instantly fading from golden eyes.

Ren silently turned his attention to the Kwan-Dao held in his right hand, examining its sharp blade and the reflection of the luminous full moon against its smooth surface. How ironic, he thought, that the beautiful pale orb could have such a soft, welcoming glow and yet... it was so undeniably bright, stirring feelings of hope in those who felt doubt and accepting weakness from even the strongest of beings.

In a way, the moon reminded him of... Yoh.

Ren closed his eyes and shook his head vigorously in an attempt to clear his mind of such bothersome thoughts. They would succeed only in making him angry, and he did not feel like exasperating himself tonight. Tipping his head back slightly, he fixed his remote gaze upon the moon. Amazing that such beauty could radiate off of something so simple, he found himself thinking.

Then, as if it were in thankful response to the gentle moonlight lighting his face, Ren smiled, taking a moment to enjoy the cool breeze that brushed his skin and ruffled his hair, all done so tenderly, comforting like a loving mother's warm, protective embrace and sweet lullaby. As the breeze departed, Ren partly lifted his closed eyelids, a small frown adorning his features. Nothing lasted forever.

Turning wordlessly, Ren trudged toward the single wooden bench located nearby. He wasn't sure why there was only one bench, seeing as there were many people living in the Funbari Inn, but his guess was that Yoh's grandparents hadn't anticipated that anyone but Yoh and Anna would abide in the inn, and as a result, no one had thought to buy a second or even third bench. He inwardly sighed, reminding himself that such a trivial matter wasn't worth contemplating, and halted in front of the wooden bench, where he then lifted the fresh, white towel he had placed there when he first came out to his face, gently moving the towel up and down, drying any perspiration that might have formed while he was training.

Ceasing this movement after a long, quiet moment, Ren brought the now slightly dampened towel down from his face and, taking hold of his Kwan-Dao which he had propped-up against the side of the inn, he entered into the inn through the back entrance.

The inside of the inn was dimly lit, darkened by the lack of lighting turned on, illuminated only by the pale moonlight creeping in through the inn's modest-numbered but sufficiently-sized windows. Resting his Kwan-Dao against one of the kitchen's walls, Ren advanced toward the refrigerator, opened the door, reached his hand inside in search of a bottle of his greatly-appreciated milk, and grasped nothing. Ren blinked his golden eyes in a mixture of surprise and confusion, then bent down and took to inspecting the refrigerator's contents personally. Still, he found no milk-- not one single, measly bottle.

Golden eyes sharply narrowing, Ren emitted a low growl of frustration. "Bason!" He called out.

"Yes, young master?" The spirit responded respectfully, manifesting at Ren's side. His large, sturdy body was clad in green armor adorned with gold; a golden helmet was worn atop his head, protecting his skull; and a crimson-hued poncho-like cape was worn around his neck, draping his shoulders.

"Where is all the milk?" Ren inquired, calming himself enough to speak in a rather polite tone.

"I-I don't believe we have any," replied Bason reluctantly with an apparent note of disappointment in his voice.

"What do you mean 'we don't have any'?!" Ren snapped, anger instantly consuming him.

Bason bowed his head in shame. "I am sorry, Master Ren, but you drank the last of the milk earlier." He spoke ruefully, the target of his own bitter resent. He felt useless.

Realizing that losing his temper failed to win him what he desired, and seeing the forlorn expressed on his Guardian Ally's face, Ren let out a defeated sigh. "No matter, Bason; I'd rather go for a walk anyway," he told the spirit. He gently closed the refrigerator door and turned, glancing thoughtfully toward his Kwan-Dao but deciding not to take it along with him; _I won't need it, _he dismissively told himself. He exited the inn through its back entrance, which was located in the kitchen, stalked around to the front of the inn and silently trudged down the empty street. It was no more than three minutes later when he heard the cry of his Guardian Ally and friend -- "Young master!" -- and halted in response, waiting patiently as Bason rapidly came hovering toward him.

"Master Ren, I noticed that you forgot your Kwan-Dao at the inn, and I thought I'd mention--"

"I left it behind intentionally, Bason; I won't need it," Ren blandly interrupted him.

Falling silent, Bason examined his teenage companion-- golden eyes dimmed by what could possibly be thought, facial expression sullen, body language uneasy and unwelcoming; all of Ren's natural exuberance seemed to have been drained from him, and this concerned Bason. Ren was not the most open of people, nor was he the most demure; he was not the most optimistic of people, nor was he the most pessimistic; but he was lively. He had been since his defeat against Yoh, since his father was defeated, since Ren learned what it was like to have friends who cared about him and who he cared about.

"Master Ren?" Bason addressed him, concern evident in his deep voice.

"I'm all right, Bason," replied Ren, not unaware of his Guardian Ally's worry. "I want to be alone for a while."

"All right," Bason unsurely agreed after a short moment of silence, fading.

Without uttering another word, Ren continued to forge forward, staring unflinchingly ahead of him. He walked in complete silence, with the exception of the faint pattering of his shoes against the paved concrete, until he came upon a small but quaint area of the town. The grass underfoot was short and glistened in the moonlight, swaying lightly in an occasional breeze. A simple bridge made of modest-sized planks of wood hovered above a still stream, blue liquid lit by pale moonlight, sparkling beautifully.

Such a bright but wondrous sight, Ren thought it was. The reflection of the hopeful moon hovered over the center of the calm lake-- an unruffled collectiveness that radiated faith, peace of mind, and contentment-- and again he was reminded of Yoh. An abrupt shuffle sounded, ceasing Ren's contemplation. Instinct taking over him, Ren's golden eyes darted in the direction the noise had come from. An impassive face was illuminated by the light of the moon, remote emerald eyes staring blankly at him; long, blonde hair held by smooth, black ribbons in twin pig-tails hung closely near the thin silhouette of a frail-looking form. Through the darkness, Ren could make out the round, dirtied face of a lifeless doll caressed affectionately in the pale arms of the entity. This was obviously a girl, a girl he recognized as being-- "You!" Ren snarled, narrowing his eyes scornfully on the young girl, gritting his teeth. She silently stepped forward, onto the bridge and into the glaring light of the moon and gleaming lake, creating an open environment for the opposing teens, exposing all who tried to cower in the protective darkness, permitting nothing to be concealed in shadows.

"What do _you_ want?" Ren brashly inquired, indignant. "Is this Hao's idea of a game-- to have you quietly stalk me and then suddenly reveal yourself?"

"Hao-sama did not send Mari; Mari came by Mari's self," said the blonde, defending her master habitually but in a tone of incompliant apathy.

"Oh, is that so?" Ren skeptically asked her. The blonde was passive, unresponsive. "Well, then, what do you want?" Ren then asked, tone demanding and unkind, unfriendly, lacking compassion or consideration for the blonde's seemingly non-existent feelings.

"Mari," started the blonde, pausing, "wants Ren to come with Mari and join Hao-sama."

"Well, Mari will just have to get over it; I'm not going anywhere with you," replied Ren in a tone that was calm but bitter and resentful.

Despite having heard Ren's hateful words, Mari's disposition was unaffected; her face failed to reflect emotion or emit warmth, and her green eyes, dulled from their lack of feeling, remained locked against his sharp, vibrant, golden ones. "Mari knows Ren wants to break free of his pain. She knows Ren wants to defeat Asakura Yoh. But she knows Ren isn't strong enough," she said indifferently.

"What do you know?!" Ren snapped furiously.

"Mari knows," she told him; her flat tone was unchanged. "Mari wants to help Ren. Mari wants Ren to come with Mari. Then, Hao-sama can help Ren. Hao-sama can give Ren the power Ren needs to get what he wants," she stated without a hint of doubt in her soft, listless voice.

"I don't want his help, and I told him so," said Ren impatiently, growing increasingly exasperated with the blonde.

"But Ren _needs_ Hao-sama's help," Mari informed him insistently.

"I don't need Hao's help, nor do I want it," replied Ren matter-of-factly.

Mari fell silent, averting her gaze to the ground in feigned interest. She hugged her doll to her chest more closely, giving the impression that she was shy or uncomfortable. "But Ren needs Hao-sama's help..." she spoke finally, softly.

"I've told you already; I don't _need_ or _want_ his help," said an irritated Ren firmly.

"Yes, Ren does!" Mari burst suddenly, snapping her head up to look at him, surprising Ren. "Ren _can't_ runaway from his pain, and he _can't_ stop it! He _can't_ defeat Asakura Yoh! He's not strong enough! But Hao-sama can help Ren; Hao-sama can give Ren the power Mari knows Ren desires. Hao-sama will help Ren. Ren can't get what Ren wants on his own!" She declared, shaking her head gently; her long, blonde pig-tails swayed along with her movement. "Mari wants to help Ren; Mari wants Ren to come with her and Mari will take Ren to Hao-sama. Come with Mari," she pleaded to him; her once flat, emotionless voice was now urgent with desperation. Her emerald eyes had widened as she spoke and now expressed an emotion Ren couldn't quite place; perhaps it was heart break; perhaps it was the dreary feeling of failure. Whatever it was, it was quickly overshadowed in his mind and was, for now, forgotten. There was something reflected in Mari's emerald orbs that he instantly recognized, something all-too-familiar to him: pain.

Ren's sharp eyes softened upon seeing the familiar emotion, reminding him of his own pain, reminding him of his own despair, reminding him of the man who served as the underlying cause of his suffering-- his father. "I'm sorry," he told her softly, "but I can't come with you." His golden orbs met Mari's hurt, puzzled, emerald ones. "When I was young, I was forced to watch as thousands of men and women were slaughtered at the hands of my father. My childhood memories are plagued with murder, hate, revenge, and death. But there is more to life than hate and destruction; Yoh taught me that. We were enemies in the Shaman Fight, but he treated me with kindness and accepted me into his home. He became my first friend and traveled to China, intent on rescuing me, when he learned that my father was holding my sister and I captive in a dungeon in our home. No matter how much I wish to defeat Yoh and prove once in for all that I am the superior shaman, I can not betray him." He gravely explained; his facial expression was solemn.

For a long moment, Mari only gazed at Ren in silence-- emerald eyes wide with shock and disbelief. Then, she bowed and turned her head ever-so slightly, avoiding his gaze by averting hers to the side. She hugged her doll to her chest a second time, as if the doll could ease her pain, resembling a timid child clutching something that provided them with comfort and a sense of security.

"I'm sorry," Ren gently said again. Then, after another moment of observing the silent blonde, Ren quietly turned and started toward the Funbari Inn, fading from view within minutes. Mari stood unmoving, left behind, staring off to the side at the glaring pool of moonlight reflecting off the surface of the calm lake. She did not want to return to the campsite where she abided with her comrades and leader; she did not want to return until she had Ren by her side, ready to obtain the power Hao could effortlessly provide him with, ready to fight alongside she and her companions, ready to save her from her emptiness.

"Mari..." She began in a soft whisper, abruptly ceasing. She smiled a faint, bittersweet smile and looked down at the doll cradled in her arms, which lifted its head to meet her tender gaze. Her emerald eyes distanced rapidly, draining of all emotion; her pale face was stoic, cold, unfeeling. Ren had said that he _could_ not come with Mari, not that he _would_ not come with her.

She hadn't given up on him yet.

---

Authors Note: All right... I'll admit, toward the ending, I wasn't sure what exactly I should do. I just wasn't sure how to bring this fanfic to an end, but, somehow, miraculously, I managed to wrap it all up. I know that it ends abruptly and isn't one of those fluff-filled, die-happy one-shots, but it wasn't meant to be. That'd be much too out-of-character for Ren and Mari! I'm not sure whether I should leave this fanfic as it is or turn this little one-shot into a full-fledged story, so I'm just going to leave it up to those who are reading. What do you think? What _did_ you think? I'd love to hear from you.


End file.
